


Witching Hour Wanderer

by Lady_Bluebird



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Businessman Levi, College Student Eren Yeager, Dry Humping, Eren Yeager Is a Tease, Fluff and Smut, German Eren Yeager, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Top Eren Yeager, World Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:47:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25790830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Bluebird/pseuds/Lady_Bluebird
Summary: Of all the beautiful things that Levi found during that fateful night in Rome, Eren was the best one.
Relationships: Levi Ackerman/Eren Yeager
Comments: 12
Kudos: 180





	Witching Hour Wanderer

**Author's Note:**

> Canon and life are both rough right now, so I needed to take care of my heart and write some soft ereri.

Rome is as beautiful as people say it is, although the movies and paintings don’t show the trash, but it’s better at night. Lights on street corners and in windows make the dark city look as if it's decorated with harnessed stars. Strolling over the Ponte Sant'Angelo, the River Tiber below gleaming darkly under the streetlights, the empty roads and still night make the city seem like it's frozen in time, and I'm the only inhabitant who isn't affected. 

If Hange knew that I waited to explore until after everyone else fell asleep, they’d tease me for being a misanthrope. But fuck, I’ve spent four days wooing Erwin’s potential investors with crowded, sweaty tours, trying to stay awake enough through Dimo Reeves’ pseudo-erudite blathering about column types to keep an eye out for pickpockets. I haven’t had an opportunity to appreciate the city until now. 

I stand in front of the Castel Sant'Angelo and gaze up at the back-lit stone angel springing toward me from its roof. I'm about as religious as grass is purple, but the Catholic art and architecture saturating Rome is unarguably beautiful. I was in the Vatican City half an hour ago, and, standing in the vast square, haloed by towering, well-lit columns, I understood the power of Saint Peter's Basilica.

I make my way through the city, passing through modern areas and medieval ones, well-kept asphalt roads and cobblestone alleys so old that the brick is warped. The old paths, noticeable without crowds smothering them, rise and fall in small hills, the Earth struggling to finally buck the ancient stones off of its back.

I frown to myself. My footsteps sound louder than they should be. 

The alley is probably amplifying them. There's no real threat, just unfamiliar noise in the dark. 

Then, I realize that the footsteps sound out of sync with my strides. 

They're not mine. Someone's following me. They’re either bold or stupid, because they’re tailing me closely and aren’t being very quiet. If I have to, I’ll confront them, but I’m too tired to fight someone if I can avoid them instead. Trying to shake them, I turn and head down a narrow, zigzagging side street. 

They’re still behind me. I turn again. I still can't lose them. By the time the road opens up into one of Rome’s many forums, I’m pissed. 

I stop. “Look,” I say into the dark, “If you’re trying to mug me, you picked a bad target. Fuck off.” I turn around to size up the figure behind me. 

They’re a young man, tall with long, dark hair in a low bun and the most vibrant, expressive eyes I’ve ever seen. He raises his hands, palms toward me. “Sorry,” He says, a sheepish smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I wasn’t trying to scare you.” Between the backpack slung over his shoulder and the poorly hidden wallet in his pocket, he looks like he’s as much a tourist as I am. 

I raise an eyebrow. “What the hell did you expect, stalking me at two in the morning? Why are you following me?"

"I really wasn't trying to follow you," He corrects me, flushing. "I wanted to explore at night." His eyes light up as he speaks. “It’s exhilarating. In the dark, turning every corner is finding something hidden, even if it’s somewhere big and famous like the Piazza del Popolo.”

Even knowing how carefully career criminals can construct personas to capture their victims, I don't think he's acting. I let myself relax. "You're lucky that you didn't run into trouble, being alone this late at night and not looking like a local.” 

He bristles. Despite my irritation, it’s fucking adorable. "Says you." 

"I can kick trouble's ass." 

"And you don't think I could?" He asks. "I can handle myself.” 

I look his body up and down. He definitely could. His t-shirt and jeans do nothing to hide how wide his forearms and thighs are. Whether he’s strong enough to fight well and whether he actually fights well are different questions, but at the very least, I bet he could manhandle me easily. 

My eyes travel high enough to meet his. The mischievous glint in them has a new, hungry edge. 

“Don’t kid yourself,” I tell him. “You’re only unscathed because the thieves think you’re a student with no money to take.” 

The man laughs. “Yeah, sure.” His skin glows gold, and the nighttime shadows highlight his sharp cheekbones. Beautiful. “What about you?” He asks, and I let him draw closer. “What brought you out this late?” His eyes brim with amusement. "Are you the trouble you warned me about?" 

He makes me feel like I could be. His accent, which is faint but unmistakably German, has a low timbre that makes me latch onto every word, and I keep thinking about how his hair would feel good between my fingers if I took it out of his bun and tugged.

"Same reason as you. The dark gives the city a different energy." And it makes everything more alluring. 

He sidles up next to me, and when I speak, he leans into my words. His attentiveness and proximity make my stomach flutter. 

“You said you weren't trying to follow me," I say, "but what made you do it?"

He flushes. “You got my attention,” He says. “I haven’t seen anybody else out, and you looked like you were lost in thought. I was curious.” 

“And have I sated your curiosity?” I ask. 

He replicates the way I scrutinized his body. “You’re only making me more curious,” He says. 

“Trust me,” I say, stomach somersaulting, “there isn’t much to be curious about,” 

“Really?” He says with a grin. “Because you don’t give me the vibe that you’re only a pretty face.” 

“You think I’m a pretty face?” 

“The prettiest I've ever seen." He moves closer to me, and his proximity makes it hard to focus. “Have you been to the Palatine Hill yet?” The man asks me. 

“I saw it from the Colosseum,” I say. 

“That’s not the same,” He murmurs against my ear. I close my eyes to avoid shuddering. “Come on, I’ll show you.” 

His name is Eren, and he leads me through Rome with a confidence that’s all the more mesmerizing because he knows the city barely better than I do. Our shoulders brush as we walk, sending jolts of electricity through me. I constantly catch him glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. 

"You said I look like a student," Eren says. "You're right, I am one." 

"In... Germany?" I guess. 

Eren shakes his head. "I'm originally from Sachsen, but I don't go to school there, I study in England. I'm here on holiday." He smiles at the pavement. "My best friend and I have a list of destinations we want to visit together over the course of our lives, and Rome is one of them, so when we got the chance to come here, we seized it." 

"Do they know that you're out skulking with a stranger while they sleep?" I tease. 

Eren smirks. "They will when I tell them all about you tomorrow." 

"I'm flattered." 

“Good, you should be." Eren smiles. 

Whether our flirting will go anywhere or crash and burn, I'm not sure. At night, in the Eternal City, everything is spontaneous. 

I also don't care. Eren is addicting. 

"Why are you in Rome?” Eren asks. “Business or pleasure?” He purrs the last word. 

“Right now? Pleasure.” Eren’s eyelids lower, and he watches me from behind long lashes. “But I’m in Italy for work,” I add.

“What kind of work?” Eren asks. 

“An old friend of mine and I are jewelers,” I say. “He wanted to court new shareholders, so I get to romance them in Rome.” The original plan was for Erwin to be here, not me, but one of our suppliers had to meet with him last-minute this week, so I’m stuck doing the dirty work.

“It’s a good city for romancing,” Eren says softly. 

“It is,” I agree. 

Maybe the change of plans worked out well. 

I feel like I’m dreaming. Tomorrow morning, maybe I’ll wake up and not believe anything that I’m saying, but right now, ensnared by Eren’s and the nighttime city’s magic, everything feels right and too exciting to disbelieve. 

The Palatine Hill overlooks the field that used to be the Hippodrome, and the Colosseum glows in the distance. The hill’s ruins of imperial residences aren’t lit up the way many monuments in the city are, and the grass is high enough to brush against my knees. A breeze sighs through the holes in dead kings’ kitchen walls. 

“It feels forgotten,” I whisper to Eren. 

“Like a real ruin,” He agrees. We sit on the grass and look down at the Capital of the World. “Rome makes me a little sad,” Eren confesses. 

I can’t name the feeling, but I know what he means. “You can’t look at anything here,” I say, “without thinking about how ancient this city is and imagining every person who’ve, over the thousands of years it’s existed, taken the same steps you do,” 

Eren nods. “But’s it’s not being impressed, it’s…”

“Feeling small,” I finish. “And in awe of how, in the world timeline, so much has happened and is yet to happen that you can’t witness.” 

Eren sighs, satisfied. “Yes, it’s like that.”

As we talk about it, that feeling washes over me. The creation and destruction of the palaces whose skeletons we sit in were the products of forces we can never touch or understand. There’s no reason or plan to the universe, only a constant march toward entropy and resistance from the inhabitants who ensure that Rome endures. 

Finding Eren in this wild world is unbelievable. 

I shiver.

“Are you cold?” Eren asks. “I know it’s windy up here.”

“A little,” I admit. 

His throat bobs. “Can I hold you?” 

“I’d like that,” I confess. 

Eren puts his arm around my shoulders and nestles me against his chest. My muscles loosen as his warmth seeps into me, and his heartbeat pounds under my hands. 

We don’t say anything for a while, studying the Arch of Constantine below us and the city on the horizon. Like the labyrinthine streets we came here by, Rome is a patchwork, new buildings and expansions added onto old ones without any pattern. As large and foreign as Rome is, it gives the city a lived-in feel that new world cities like Los Angeles lack. 

I examine Eren’s profile. His lips look soft. 

“You’re staring at me,” Eren whispers. 

“You think you need to tell me that?” I murmur. Eren rolls his eyes. I cup his chin, tilting his face toward mine. Eren is pliant and patient, but his gaze questions me. “Your eyes,” I explain. “They drive me crazy.”

Eren wets his lips. “In a bad way or a good way?”

“Both. They’re brilliant, and I can’t figure out the color. Emerald doesn’t capture it, and they don’t have the right luster to be jade. They could be aventurine, or malachite, but I’m seeing a little bit of lapis or labradorite in them. And gold. Or amber.”

“Are you telling me that you’re a jeweler who can’t match gemstones to their colors?” Eren asks huskily. 

“No, I’m telling you that your eyes are singular.”

“Yeah?” When Eren looks at me, the unnameable green – made out of the same carbon as dull pebbles, what the fuck – is a thin ring around his dilated pupils. “Is that the only thing about me that’s singular?” 

“Everything about you is,” I tell him. 

I can’t tell which one of us kisses the other first, but Eren’s mouth meets mine. He tastes like honey and the night air. Eren winds his arms around my neck, making breaking away impossible, and deepens the kiss. Every nerve ending in my body is on fire. I suck on Eren’s lower lip, and he groans. 

I’m high on Eren and adrenaline. Meeting a beautiful stranger in Rome and kissing them in the dark is cliché and feels like joyriding. I half-expect one of us to take the other’s hand and tumble down into the city for a frolic in the Trevi Fountain. 

I kiss Eren harder. He gasps, opening his mouth wide enough for me to slip my tongue inside. I pull him into my lap, running my hands over his spine and hips. 

Not even the stars above us can live to witness everything, but they can see this, and I hope it looks as perfect as it feels. 

Letting go of Eren’s lips, I nurse his pulse point. He moans, and his fingers scrape the back of my neck. Encouraged by his sensitivity, I bite, and he jerks in my lap. The friction makes me groan. 

Eren pulls away, watches me intently, and, very deliberately, grinds down onto my crotch. I moan again and dig my nails into his hips, pressing my face into his shoulder. “Fuck!”

Eren makes a noise that’s part moan and part laugh. I palm his crotch, cupping his hardening cock through his jeans. He shudders. 

I nip Eren’s ear and jaw, guiding his hips to move harder against mine. We moan into each other’s mouths. Eren tangles his hands in the back of my shirt, wrenching the fabric. 

The pressure in my gut is intense, and I’m almost lost when Eren stammers, “Levi, wait.”

I let go of him. “What is it? Did I hurt you?”

Eren’s eyes are wide, lips glossy and parted. “No,” He says. “It’s that – let’s not do this here.” 

Oh.

I put my hands back on Eren’s waist. “Come back to my hotel room with me.” 

“Yeah,” Eren breathes. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

Hotel rooms are stayed in, not lived in, and you can always tell. Normally, when I go on long business trips and spend every week in a different city, I don’t care how impersonal a room is as long as it’s quiet and clean, but taking Eren to my suite makes me understand how cold it would be without him. 

We shed our clothes quickly. I’m not subtle about staring. Eren grins. “Still think I can’t handle myself?” He asks. 

I snort. “Don’t get too cocky, or I really will make you ‘handle yourself’.” 

“Nah, I think I’m pretty safe from that possibility.” Eren says. He grasps my hipbones and lifts me up. Instinctively, I wrap my legs around his waist, moaning as our position presses our cocks together. “You’re too turned on to make me come by myself,” Eren says against my ear, groping my ass. 

He lies me on the bed and crawls on top of me, devouring me with his gaze. “But if I had to,” Eren adds, “I would make do. You’re fucking hot.” 

The image of Eren kneeling over me and touching himself to my naked body is pretty good, but he’s right, I would rather he do something else. 

Eren takes my mouth again. Our tongues tangle languidly, stoking the fires in our stomachs, before he pulls away and starts traveling down my torso. I arch my body into his ministrations. Eren slides his hands under my back, holding me up for easier access. I squeeze his forearms, admiring the muscles straining under my hands. 

By the time his tongue reaches my hipbones, I’m panting. Eren pauses, cheek resting on my pelvis, and looks up at me with hooded eyes. “Damn, you look so good,” He says. “Can I taste you?” 

“Please.” I can’t tear my eyes away as Eren pets my shaft with his long, pink tongue and takes the head of my cock into his lips. 

I moan and drop my head back onto the mattress. “Fuck, Eren!” Eren hums around my length. He makes obscene slurping sounds, and I choke on air as he works me deeper and deeper down his throat. Giving in to my earlier desire, I tug his hair out of its bun and tangle my hands in it, bucking into his mouth. The soaking, searing warmth melts my mind. When Eren gently pulls my hand off of his head and slides his mouth off of my cock, I fucking whimper. 

I’m boneless and panting, my legs spread wide around him. Eren looks down at me with tiger eyes, admiring his handiwork. “I want to fuck you,” He says, running his hands over the insides of my thighs. 

“God, yes,” I say. 

“Do you have stuff for sex?” Eren asks. 

“Um, yeah. There’re condoms and lube in the front pocket of the blue suitcase.” I didn’t pack any, but after finding them in my suitcase many times, I bet that Hange snuck them into this bag, too. 

Eren turns his back to me to rummage through the suitcase. He has a fantastic ass, and I bet that it would be nice and tight to fuck, but that’s for some other time. Right now, I need to feel him inside and on top of me.

Eren retrieves the supplies, and for the first time, I’m grateful to Hange for thinking that they’re necessary. He settles back between my legs and drizzles some of the lube over his fingers, rubbing them together to warm it up. “I bet you’re going to be tight,” Eren murmurs. He presses one teasing finger against my hole, making it twitch. “And sensitive.” Eren scatters butterfly kisses on the inside of my thigh and presses down on my entrance. We both groan when his finger breaches me. “Oh fuck, you are.” 

Eren is a gentle lover as he prepares me to take his cock. By the time he’s three fingers deep, I’m grinding back onto him, losing my mind for him once again. It’s both satisfying to finally have something inside of me and maddening that it’s not his cock. Eren’s big, the tip glossy with a bead of precum. His cock bumps against his stomach when he moves. I want him to stretch me open badly. 

Eren’s fingers press down on my prostate, and I cry out, hips jumping into his hands. “Found it,” He breathes. He grinds his fingers against my sweet spot, and I writhe, bucking into his hand. 

“Eren, please don’t tease,” I beg. “Come on and put it in, I need you.” 

“Sorry, I can’t resist.” When Eren slides his fingers out of me, I regret telling him off. Then he opens the lube again and slicks himself up, stroking his length with a soft sigh. He looks down at me hungrily, shamelessly fisting his cock. 

“I thought you said you weren’t going to tease,” I mutter.

Eren groans. “Pretty sure you’re the tease right now.” Finally, he crawls back on top of me and slings one of my legs over his shoulder, spreading me open. Both of our gazes dip between my thighs as Eren holds his cock and lines himself up. He’s so riled up that the light touch of his hand makes him wince. 

Eren’s cock is hot and slick against my rim. We both watch, enraptured, as he penetrates me. I keep my eyes on his face as he slowly sinks into me, enraptured by the way his lips part and eyes flutter shut. The feeling of being stretched so widely and filled so completely is dizzying. 

After Eren bottoms out, he pauses so that I can adjust. When he kisses my neck, his lips tremble against my skin. “Good?” I ask. 

“I-fuck,” Eren slurs his words. “So good.” I roll my hips experimentally, gyrating back onto his cock, and Eren moans, hips jerking against my ass. 

“It’s alright,” I say. “You can move.” 

Eren pulls away until only the head of his cock is inside me before plunging back in, hard and fast. I gasp and grab the sheets as he works his way into a relentless rhythm, rendering me voiceless. 

I moan as Eren pounds into me. I do my best to meet his thrusts, but Eren’s bruising grip on my hips doesn’t give me much room to move. One of his hands holds my hips down while the other has a firm grip on my ankle, holding me open for him. The most I can do is be shamelessly, vocally receptive as Eren drills into my body. I love every second of it. 

“Do you like this, Levi?” Eren asks, thrusting especially hard. His balls twitch against my ass. “You like having my cock in your ass?” 

“Yes!” I gasp, grabbing his ass and trying to guide him closer, harder, deeper. Eren is as wrecked as I am, hair falling into his eyes and sweat dripping down his collarbone. His cock twitches inside of me. We’re both close. 

I let go of Eren and stroke my cock, crying out as he slams into my sweet spot. The nearly pained noises he makes and the slick sound of his cock moving in and out of me are maddening in the best possible way. My toes curl as my pleasure reaches a breaking point. 

“Fuck yeah, Levi,” Eren gasps. “Come on my cock.” His hips swing in and out of me. Eren tightens his grip on my body and yanks me as close to him as he can, fucking me deeper. 

I come with a cry, jolting as Eren fucks me through my orgasm. His pace becomes erratic as my ass clamps down on his dick, and he moans, foregoing his deep, fast thrusts to grind into me. Eren buries himself as deep as he can and comes with a shudder, moaning my name. 

I wince as Eren pulls out and flops down next to me. We take a few moments to gasp at the ceiling before he rolls off the bed, throws away the condom, and gets a washcloth to clean us up. 

“How do you feel?” Eren asks, tossing the washcloth aside and sliding back under the covers. 

“Good.” I wrap my arms around him and make myself a pillow on his shoulder. 

“Good.” Eren yawns.

I start drifting off, lured into sleep by Eren’s heartbeat and steady breathing.

“Fuck,” Eren says. “It’s almost five.” 

“Stay,” I murmur against his skin. “Sleep with me for a couple of hours.” 

Eren sighs. “I have to catch a flight to London at four this afternoon.” 

“Damn.” He made me forget that we’re both visitors here. “Well, I still want you to stay for a while, if you can.” 

“I can.” He’s smiling, I can hear it. Eren shifts restlessly. “Levi…” 

“Yes?”

“We don’t really know each other, and we live on opposite sides of the ocean. When I leave later, do you want me to give you my number, or do you want this to be it?” Maybe it’s because we’re speaking softly, but Eren’s voice sounds small. 

The last thing I want is for him to be another Roman discovery that I admire and them leave behind. “Eren,” I say, “Of all of the billions of people living in the millions of cities around the world throughout the thousands of years of civilization, we were the ones who met each other here and now. If we got that lucky once, the odds of meeting again are in our favor.”

I prop myself up on my elbow so that I can look at his face. “Do you have a Whatsapp?”

“Yeah?” He blinks up at me. 

“Leave me that, it’ll work better across borders than your number would.” I lie back down, this time for good, and pull the blankets tightly around us. “If things go well, I might visit you.”

“I’d like that a lot,” Eren agrees. 

I’m not going to lie here and dream up idealistic futures in which we get married and live happily ever after. It’s too fucking early to do that; we haven’t begun. But, resting with Eren and watching the dawn, which is nearly as flushed as Eren’s cheeks were while he was inside of me, creep up over obelisks and the Pantheon, I can imagine a happy, long future with him. Easily.

**Author's Note:**

> If you guys want, I might write a second chapter about a reunion after a timeskip? Thank you for reading, and if you liked this one-shot, please leave me some kudos and a comment! Also feel free to visit me on [Tumblr.](https://lady-bluebird-luv.tumblr.com/) I hope that you're all doing well right now, and stay safe out there!


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